mu 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


of  Uj* 


of  tjje 


BY 
ARTHUR  WENTWORTH  HEWITT 


COLONIAL   PRESS 

C.    H.    SIMONDS   COMPANY 

BOSTON 


Copyright,  1916 
By  ARTHUR  WENTWORTH  HEWITT 


Co 
Bina 


POEMS 

PAGE 

THE  WAYFARER 9 

THE  FOLLOWER 12 

THE  ENDLESS  QUEST  .  .  .  .13 
BLUE  HILLS  BEYOND  THE  GREEN  .  15 
THE  WAYSIDE  TREE  .  .  .  .18 
THE  BELLS  OF  ETERNITY  ...  23 
SEVEN  SONGS  OF  EVENING  .  .  .28 
THE  LOST  ILLUSION  ....  34 

A  SONG  OF  HER 39 

HEARTACHE 40 

BESIDE  MY  COTTAGE  DOOR  .  .  .41 
THE  BALLAD  OF  BROKEN  LINKS  .  .  45 
APRIL  AND  INDIAN  SUMMER  ...  49 
EILEEN  OF  INVERLIN  .  .  .  .51 

THE  GAWKY 54 

THE  SHEPHERD'S  DAUGHTER  .  .  57 
THE  WRAITH  OF  ROBIN  .  .  .61 
BY  THE  MOON  OF  HALLOWE'EN  .  .  66 
NORNA  THORNTON  ....  75 
EVIL  IVAN'S  BRIDE  ....  80 

VENGEANCE  Is  MINE     ....      88 

THE  EVENSTAR 102 

IN  SHADOWLAND 109 

THE  SHADOW  BROTHER  in 


of  tije 


THE   WAYFARER. 

One  league,  ten  leagues,  and  a  thousand,  onward 

into  the  night; 
The   lone,    low    hillsides    darken,    the   stars    are 

wildly  bright. 
From  the  dimness  of  leagues  beyond  me,  their 

journeyings  only  begun, 
The  stars  of  the  wearying  thousands  shine  weari 

less  over  this  one. 

For  only  one  do  we  travel,  where  one  by  one  in 

the  dark 
From  lone  abysses  of  dimness  each  league  has  its 

several  spark. 
'Twas  one  by  one  that  we  traveled  the  leagues 

that  behind  us  are  past  — 
We  walk  but  one  in  the  present,  and  die  in  one 

at  the  last. 

9 


of  tfje  ISTortf) 

Who  walks  one  step  of  the  journey  may  not  for 
ever  turn  back; 

Who  steps  no  foot  of  the  journey  must  wither 
and  die  in  his  track. 

From  the  days  of  loves  that  will  linger  and 
sweeten  through  all  he  aspires, 

He  must  trample  all  he  has  cherished  to  stand 
on  the  height  he  desires. 

But  the  still,  small  voice  of  his  Being  will  call 

him  away  and  afar 
Where    loom    his    delectable   mountains,    where 

shines  his  delectable  star; 
Where  ever,  but  ever  beyond  him,  still  ever  he 

knows  he  shall  gain 
The  hills  of  his  ultimate  Being,   the  crown  of 

his  ultimate  pain. 

Yet  on  through  the  leagues  and  the  dimness,  ah, 

yet  to  the  mountains  above, 
He  will  yearn  with  unquenchable  longing  and 

throb  with  unbeatable  love; 
10 


of  Ujr 

Still   gleams,   in  the  homeland  behind  him,   the 

hallowed,  enhaloing  light 
As  it  shone  when  he  left  it  forever,  a  vagabond 

into  the  night. 

Oh,  long  and  homeless  the  journeys,  and  dim 
the  wild  starlight  gleam 

Till  pilgrims  and  strangers  have  crossed  all 
purple  peaks  of  their  dream 

To  the  land  where  the  light  that  darkened  in  the 
dim,  long  journeys  we  trod 

We  shall  greet  for  once  and  forever,  the  Un 
speakable  Glory  of  God. 


11 


of  tfje 


THE    FOLLOWER. 

By  starless  night,  or  morning 

Auroral  and  sublime, 
On  winter  wind  or  vernal, 
Relentless  and  eternal, 
I  hear  the  ancient  warning 

The  hills  of  soul  to  climb. 

Through  death  and  desolation, 
Through  hope  and  happy  things; 

Through  valleys  vast  and  hollow, 

O'er  hills,  I  follow,  follow 

The  eerie  aspiration 

Of  ghostly  whisperings. 

Oh,  joy  to  follow  faster, 

By  rocky  road  or  green! 
I  who  have  rested  never 
Shall  ask  no  rest  for  ever 
Of  Destiny,  my  master, 

Immortal  and  unseen. 
12 


of  tljt 


THE   ENDLESS   QUEST. 

The  old,  eternal  calling,  love, 

Is  sounding  in  my  soul; 
The  steps  afar  are  falling,  love, 

I  follow  toward  the  goal. 

The  angel  wearies  never,  love, 
Who  has  her  pilgrim  trained 

To  seek  one  quest  forever,  love, 
Forever  unattained. 

I  know  not  where  she  leads  me,  love, 

I  only  know  'tis  far; 
I  know  not  if  she  heeds  me,  love, 

Where  death  and  heartbreak  are. 

Oh,  tired  to-day  with  roaming,  love, 

And  leagues  on  leagues  to  roam, 
My  soul,  that  has  no  homing,  love, 

Has  slept  and  dreamed  of  home. 
13 


of  tfj* 

I  wake  as  day  is  failing,  love  — 

On  forest  hills  afar 
The  whippoorwills  are  wailing,  love, 

Unto  the  evening  star. 

The  night  is  dark  and  eerie,  love, 

And  lonely  is  the  quest; 
O  fold  my  heart  —  'tis  weary,  love  - 

To-night  upon  thy  breast! 


14 


BLUE  HILLS  BEYOND  THE  GREEN. 

My  home  was  in  the  highlands, 
Where  shone  in  emerald  sheen 

The  leaves  and  vines  and  grasses 
Upon  the  hills  of  green. 

But  all  my  heart  grew  restless, 

And  all  my  soul  forgot 
The  things  of  its  possession 

For  things  possessed  not. 

Beyond  the  greener  highlands 

I  saw  the  ranges  lie, 
The  azure  mountain  ranges, 

Against  the  azure  sky. 

They  shone  in  violet  colors 

Against  the  sunset  sheen; 
The  far  off  hills  of  azure 

Were  fairer  than  the  green. 
15 


of  tfje 

And  so  I  left  the  homeland 
Where  all  my  memories  are, 

To  seek  through  all  the  distance 
The  hills  of  blue  afar. 


From  all  my  vines  and  orchards, 
From  all  my  soul  had  gained, 

From  all  my  heart's  attainments, 
I  sought  my  unattained. 

The  way  was  long  and  weary, 
My  heart  grew  strange  and  lone; 

But  now  at  last  the  ranges 
Are  near  and  are  my  own. 

But  all  the  hills  are  barren, 
And  all  the  hills  are  brown ; 

Beneath  my  feet  they  darken, 
And  like  the  desert  frown. 

And  once  before  I  perish 
My  wayward  glances  roam, 
16 


of  tfte 

And  turn  with  speechless  longing 
Back  to  my  hills  of  home. 

Oh,  mine  no  more  for  ever! 

Oh,  fair  they  shine  to  view, 
The  hills  from  whence  I  wandered 

Far  off  —  and  azure  blue! 


17 


of  tfje  Korttj 


THE    WAYSIDE    TREE. 

A  shade  for  the  sunny  sod 
Was  made  by  the  Mighty  God, 

Who  said,  long  years  ago : 
"  From  yonder  naked  clod 

Let  branching  beauty  grow." 

For  lovers  and  pilgrims  were  there, 
Men  weary,  and  men  in  despair, 
And  souls  who  had  love  for  the  Fair, 
And  God  for  them  all  had  a  care, 
So  God  upraised  a  tree  — 
Aye  blessed  be  the  God  of  the  tree! 
And,  long  though  the  years  may  be, 
What  need  of  hurry  hath  He? 
Who  is  all  the  gods  and  fate 
Can  well  afford  to  wait  — 

Ah  well,  'tis  this,  my  song: 
God  raised  the  wayside  tree 

Through  half  a  century  long. 
18 


of  tftr 

Lo,  half  a  hundred  years 
That  slowly  sail  on  our  tears 
To  the  place  where  lost  years  go 
(Which  God  alone  can  know) 
God  gave  to  one  lone  tree  — 
So  long  that  man  might  smile 
And  weep  and  pray  a  while 

And  greet  eternity; 
So  long  that  babes  unborn 
Have  seen  the  light  of  morn, 
Grown  grey,  and  died  forlorn, 

Such  weary  years  to  dree. 
God  called  the  years  well  spent, 
The  half  a  hundred  lent 

To  that  lone,  beautiful  tree. 

Lo!  toward  its  mighty  root 
Comes,  axe  in  hand,  the  brute; 
And  fifty  years  of  God 
He  levels  to  the  sod! 

(Yea,  trees  of  the  forest  there  were, 
Signs  of  the  Infinite  care; 
19 


of  tfje 

Birches  and  maples  and  fir, 

Fuel  and  lumber  were  there, 

Enough  for  him,  and  to  spare ; 

Coal  mother  earth  did  bear  — 

No  matter  —  what  did  he  care?) 
Straightway  the  iron  he  swung 

On  the  poem  the  Father  began. 
Beauty  and  soul  far  flung, 
On  a  song  that  God  had  sung 

The  iron  discordant  ran; 
Struck  Ideality's  plan, 
Beauty  for  the  soul  of  man, 

And  a  shade  for  the  fevered  head  — 
Oh,  loss  irrelievable  now, 

For,  ere  a  half  century's  fled, 
Another  may  shelter  the  brow, 

But  the  brow  neath  its  shade  will  be  dead  I 

Oh,  many  and  many  an  hour, 

Like  many  and  many  a  man, 
I've  sat  by  the  branching  bower  — 

Its  leaves  were  as  cool  as  a  fan. 
There,  wearied  on  the  quest 


of  tfte  ISTottfj 

My  soul  forever  seeks, 
I  sat  me  down  to  rest 

And  watch  my  purple  peaks. 
Delectable  and  far, 

Against  the  sunset  gates, 
Where  shines  the  evening  star, 

And  all  my  glory  waits, 
I  saw  them  shining  fair, 

And  wondrous  peace  was  mine, 

And  whispers  came  divine 
Upon  the  evening  air. 
Oh,  many  a  blazing  noon 

The  shade  would  intervene; 

And  at  night,  through  the  branches  green, 
I  have  watched  the  pallid  moon  — 
But  now,  no  more!  no  more! 

The  man  who  cut  the  tree 

Has  cut  my  rest  from  me, 
And  now  my  heart  is  sore. 

Ay,  curse  him!     Shatter  him,  all 

Ye  demons,  at  every  turn, 
The  beast  of  all  beasts  that  crawl ! 
21 


7i?avjj  of  tfje 

God  grant  him  in  Hell  to  burn 
Till  the  last  of  the  timbers  fall 

To  ashes,  which  fashioned  the  tree! 

And  then  may  the  brute  go  free 
To  whimper  at  Heaven's  wall ; 

But  then  will  not  bloom  for  me 

Again  my  beautiful  tree, 
Though  all  my  tears  should  fall. 


of  ttje 


THE  BELLS   OF  ETERNITY. 

Only  a  hermit,  he 

Evermore  hears, 
Under  the  glistening 
Moonbeams  a-listening, 
Tones  of  eternity 

Sweet  to  his  ears; 
Low,  but  insistently, 
Solemnly,  distantly, 
Wafted  on  winds  of  the 

Whispering  years. 
With  his  fraternity 
(Squirrels  and  wandering 
Things)  he  is  pondering 

Echoes  he  hears 
Evermore  stealing 
And  tolling  and  pealing  — 
The  bells  of  eternity 

Sweet  to  his  ears. 
23 


of  tfjr 

These  are  his  churches, 
The  maples  and  birches, 
The  elms  and  the  covering 
Blue  of  the  hovering 

Heavens  of  God; 
While  as  he  crosses 
His  grasses  and  mosses, 
He  thinks  it  no  loss  his 

Cathedral  is  trod 
Only  by  mellowing 
Twilight  enhaloing 
Angels  who  whisper  the 

Glory  of  God, 
And  by  the  morning 
Or  sunset,  adorning 
His  fonts,  the  wild  fountains 
That  rush  down  the  mountains 

Past  his  abode. 

(Hush!  in  the  gloaming, 
Hesperus-homing 

Rays  of  the  sun 
Smile  on  the  roaming 

Eremite  one. 
24 


of  tfte 

Then  is  it  strange  his 
Crimsoning  changes 
Down  the  blue  ranges 

Far  in  the  west, 
Hint  of  the  home 

And  the  hills  of  his  rest? 
Whence  ever  come, 

Distantly  stealing, 

Tones  of  the  pealing 
Bells  of  eternity, 

Sweet  to  his  ears, 
Wafted  on  winds  of  the 

Whispering  years.) 

Hush!  for  it  passes  the 
Emerald  grasses,  the 
Whispering  wind  of  the 

Vanishing  years, 
Under  the  quivering 
Leaflets  delivering 

Into  his  ears 
Words  of  the  withering 

Joys  of  the  years,  — 
25 


of  ttje 

Blooming  like  dawn  in  a 

Glory  of  light, 
Fading  and  gone  in  a 
Gloom,  as  of  night. 
Fleeting  and 
Fleeting  and 
Fleeting  in  tears! 
Meeting  us, 
Greeting  us, 

Fading  and  fleeting  thus, 
Vanish  the  years. 


Leave  him  a-pondering, 
Here  mid  his  wandering 

Wildling  fraternity. 
Time  only  swells 
Tones  of  the  bells 
Tolling  on  dells, 

And  woods  he  will  roam ; 
Ringing  and  warning, 
Gloaming  and  morning, 

Calling  him  home  — 
26 


of  tfje 

Bells  of  eternity, 

Sweet  to  his  ears; 
Echoing,  stealing, 
Tolling  and  pealing, 
Wafted  on  winds  of  the 
Whispering  years. 


22?  a  I'D  of  O)* 


SEVEN    SONGS    OF    EVENING. 

I. 

While  softly  radiant  is  the  afterglow 
A  faint  and  far  intoning  of  deep  bells, 
Dying  away  in  distance  down  the  dells, 

Is  chiming  on  the  evening  air.     I  know 

The  quaint  old  lichen  tinted  church,  below 
A  stone  old  ivied  steeple  green  and  bright, 
Beside  the  ancient  elms,  in  sunset  light 

That  smiles  on  mounds  of  burials  long  ago. 
There  slumber  under  mossy  monuments 

The  fathers,  nevermore  to  hear  the  slow 

Old  bells  sublimely  swinging  to  and  fro, 

Their  solemn,  fading  cadence  flinging  thence. 

The  bells  are  hushed,  and  now  the  veery  —  hark! 

A  song  and  then  a  silence  and  the  dark! 

II. 

Beneath  the  ancient  elms  that  stand  around 
The  country  graveyard  in  the  lonely  vale 
I  stand  at  sunset,  where  the  myrtles  trail 

28 


of  tfte 

And  lichened  marble  over  mossy  mound 

In    vain    would    whisper,    "  Death    is    on    this 

ground." 

The  violets  blossom  in  the  greening  grass, 
Wild  roses  bud,  and  ever,  as  they  pass, 
The  orioles  and  veeries  sprinkle  sound 
Down  into  evening's  green  and  golden  glow, 
And  beauty  lays  on  death  and  everything 
The  old  immortal  joyance  of  the  spring. 
Like  Memnon  to  the  morning  long  ago, 
The  very  marbles  sing,  with  rapture  rife, 
"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life." 

III. 

O  lonely  moon  that  movest  up  the  sky, 
If  fairer  bark  e'er  sailed  a  softer  sea 
I  know  not  where!     In  blue  infinity 

Among  the  fleecy  floating  cloudlets  I, 

Sitting  within  thy  hollow  shell  on  high, 
As  a  babe  in  a  golden  bowl  to  float  in  glee, 
Am  fain  to  float  afar  to-night  with  thee, 

Wild  wonders  down  blue  seas  of  air  to  spy. 

There,  rocking  on  the  billows  of  the  breeze, 


of  tfje 

The  green  old  ocean's  bosom  heaving  bare, 
The  lofty  mountains  lifting  through  the  air, 

The  far  off  little  lovers  under  trees 

By  houses  big  as  boxes  —  I  would  stare, 

Peering  over  thy  brim,  to  look  at  these. 

IV. 

A  fearsome,  creeping,  inky,  starless  night! 

The  velvet  monster  muffles  dismally 
All  things  from  vision,  yet  is  out  of  sight; 

Eyes  straining  from  their  sockets  could  not  see 
His  eldritch  shape,  nor  misers  aught  behold 
Though  walking  half  a  yard  from  heaps  of  gold. 

Their  tender  babes  might  mothers  laughingly 
Lead    under   trees   whence    Death,    all    ghastly, 

leans. 
The  lewdest  boor  might  think  on  shelling  beans, 

While  Aphrodite  naked  from  the  sea 
Walked  half  a  rod  before  him.     Serpent's  hiss 

Or  wolf's   bare  fang  might  ambush  man  to 
night. 
I  wonder  is  the  breathless  grave  like  this? 

It  is  as  if  God  died  who  made  the  light. 
30 


V. 

Bewildering,  awaking  star  on  star, 

Capella,  Vega,  and  the  Pleiades, 

In  crystal  constellations  when  one  sees 
Step  forth  on  sapphire  battlements  afar, 
And  wondering  thinks  what  boundless  spaces  are 

Between     the     closest,     where     perchance     is 
whirled 

Round  the  Galaxy's  least  atom  many  a  world 
That  dwarfeth  this,  Infinity  seems  far. 
Then  search  all  rolling  worlds  and  gather  all 

The  drops  of  water,  fire,  and  grains  of  sand; 
All  leaves  that  ever  fell,  all  flakes  that  fall  — 

Make  each  lone  atom  in  a  sum  so  grand, 
A  billion   rolling  aeons,  let  them  flee  — 
'Tis  not  a  moment  of  Eternity. 

VI. 

The  rain  has  fallen  all  the  afternoon ; 

The   soft    gray    twilight's    robe   with    rain    is 

dripping; 

The  drowsy  blossoms  nod  beneath  the  boon 
Of  needed  bath,  and  all  the  earth  is  sipping. 
31. 


of  ttje  Notrtl) 

Brown  rivulets  are  running  down  the  road; 

Mud  puddles  in  the  ceaseless  raining  wrinkle; 
And  polished  pebbles  roll,  anew  bestowed 

By  dashing  drops  that  round  them  drip  and 

sprinkle. 

On  rocks  and  pasture,  pool,  and  brooklet  splash 
ing,' 
On   grass  and   trees  that  long  will  drip  ere 

drying; 

On  window  panes  all  day  I've  watched  the  dash 
ing, 

But  oh!  the  joy  of  gentle  night,  and  lying 
Beneath  the  slanted  roof  where  softly  mingles 
With  sleep  the  patter,  patter  on  the  shingles! 

VII. 

O  soul,  one  song  more  sing  of  evenfall, 
Of  soft  and  lone  and  wondrous  April-tide! 

Again  the  golden  hermit  thrushes  call, 

And  o'er  the  world  the  rainwinds  wander  wide. 

But  mellow  more  than  haloes  fall  the  rays 
Of  setting  sunlight  on  the  grasses  brown; 

The  whippoorwills  bewail  the  closing  days, 


2!?<ir:p  of  tf)* 

And    swollen    brooks    to    the    valleys    gurgle 

down. 
Green  singers  piping  shrill  in  silver  song 

Along  the  lonely  valleys  and  the  swales, 
(Clear  ringing  choruses  through  evenings  long 

Till  mellow  music  over  all  prevails). 
The  little  frogs  are  singing,  wild  with  spring! 
My  heart  will  break  if  more  I  try  to  sing. 


33 


of  ttje 


THE  LOST  ILLUSION. 

Floating  mellow  through  the  pathos  of  the  April 

evening  twilight, 
I  have  seen  again  the  vision  of  my  love  of  long 

ago. 
Down  the  darkening  abysses  of  my  soul  her  angel 

eyelight 

Smiles  to  life  the  love,  the  longing,  and  the 
un  forgotten  woe. 

Haloed  bright  with  utter  glory,  such  as  lights 

the  golden  bridal 
When  the  memories  of  April  kiss   the  hopes 

forever  dead, 
Thou   hast   all   the   wild,   sad   splendor   of   my 

dreamland's  broken  idol, 

Thou  art  all  as  I  had  dreamed  thee,  with  the 
haloes  round  thy  head. 

Art  thou  come  from  violet  mountains  of   that 
distant  past  whose  dimness 
34 


of  tfte 

Scarce  permits  to  dying  echoes  one  dear  mystic 

thrill  of  you, 
Once  again  to  wake  affection   cold   as  craters, 

stark  with  grimness, 

White  with  death  that  resurrection  never  can 
to  life  renew? 

If  thou  livest  yet  I  know  not,  thou  art  dead  for 

aye  and  ever 
With  the  death  that  lieth  piteous  and  forever 

on  my  dream. 
Girl,  I  loved  thee  long  and  madly,  but  for  me 

God  made  thee  never  — 
All  thy  haloes  were  illusion,  light  as  moon 
beams  on  the  stream. 

Thou  of  earth  wert  only  earthy,  like  the  brown, 

fresh  April  grasses, 
Yet  celestial  as  I  saw  thee,  like  the  peaks  afar 

and  blue; 
Toward  the  violet  hills  I  wandered  —  rough  and 

brown  were  all  their  passes; 
Toward  thyself  I  struggled,  homing  —  when  I 
found  thee,  love  withdrew. 
35 


Of  tyt  NOttf) 

Is  there  beauty  in  the  grasses,  or  the  April  twi 
light  holy, 
Or  the  far-off,  silver  music  of  the  frogs  along 

the  vale, 
In  the  hours  when  Nature's  freshness  is  so  sweet 

it  seems  that  slowly 

All  the  fragrances  of  Heaven  through  the  gates 
of  God  exhale? 


Or  is  all  the  sweet,  sad  splendor  in  the  mortal 

eyes  that,  seeing, 
Only  seem  to  see  immortal  beauty  reigning  in 

the  world  ? 
Are  the  eyes  all  Nature's  color?    Is  there  naught 

beyond  our  being 

For  the  thrills  that  are  forever  through  our 
throbbing  bosoms  whirled  ? 

Wert  thou  lovely,  O  thou  loved  one,  who  art 

loved  again,  ah  never! 

Who  art  dead  as  death  can  make  thee,  though 
thy  heart  still  throb  and  thrill  ? 
36 


of  tljc 

Or  were  all  the  haloes  round  thy  tresses,  eyes, 

and  soul  forever 

But  within  the  dreamer's  soul  that  saw  thee, 
loved,  and  dreamed  his  will? 

Oh,  could  death  for  deathless  longing,  or  could 

life  for  lifeless  dreaming 
Swing  from  fancy  into  truth  the  portals  aye 

and  ever  barred! 
Could  I  find  thee  what  I  thought  thee  - —  as  one 

April  drew  thy  seeming  — 
Whether  what  thou  art  I  know  not  —  what  I 
dreamed  of  thee  unmarred ! 

Nevermore  my  soul  shall  meet  thee,  nevermore 

shall  know  the  smarting 
Of  the  pain  when  thou  wouldst  turn  unsmiling 

from  a  heart  it  hurt! 
Bitter  though  it  was  to  lose  thee,  better,  better 

far  the  parting 

Than  to  watch  the  haloes  fading  from  what 
once  I  dreamed  thou  wert! 
37 


?4avj)  of 

Now  I  know  I  never  loved  thee,  now  I  know  my 

spirit  only, 
Through  the  pathos  of  the  twilight,  then  was 

seeking  for  its  own. 
Through  the  long,  unnumbered  valleys,  through 

its  dreamland  echoes  lonely, 
Still  it  seeketh  mid  the  haloes,  still  unknowing 
and  unknown. 

O  why  wilt  thou  longer  haunt  me  through  the 

wild,  pathetic  twilight, 

Lost  illusion  of  a  love-dream,  with  thine  an 
guish  wild  and  vain? 
Far  as  Algol  from  Arcturus,  God  divides  us  — 

and  her  eyelight, 

Fair  as  moonrise  on  the  mountains,  never  beams 
on  me  again. 


38 


of  tfte 


A  SONG  OF  HER. 

O  loved  so  dearly,  loved  so  long, 

And  lost  so  long  ago, 
My  heart  shall  sing  thee  one  more  song, 

Though  thou  wilt  never  know. 

From  him  thou  nevermore  wilt  see, 

A  song  thou  wilt  not  hear, 
Of  every  smile  thou  gavest  me, 

And  every  bitter  tear. 

More  dim  than  April's  twilight  glow, 

More  tender  and  more  sad, 
Are  all  the  years  of  long  ago 

And  all  the  hopes  they  had. 

They  die  all  darkly,  all  the  throng, 

They  leave  me  lone,  I  know  — 
O  loved  so  dearly,  loved  so  long, 

And  lost  so  long  ago! 
39 


of  tfje 


HEARTACHE. 

I  ache  for  thee,  I  ache  for  thee, 

O  loved  and  lost  so  long  ago, 
But  all  my  hope  is  memory, 

And  all  my  memory  is  woe. 

Thou  canst  not  come,  thou  canst  not  come, 
Thou  canst  not  come  again  to  me ! 

My  heart  is  dead,  my  song  is  dumb, 
But  all  my  dreams  remember  thee. 


40 


of  tyt 


BESIDE  MY  COTTAGE  DOOR. 

My  cottage  door  is  open 

And,  sitting  near  its  sills, 
I  watch  the  wondrous  twilight 

Enhaloing  the  hills. 

Oh,  tender  is  the  twilight, 

And,  strange  and  wondrous  fair 

The  round,  white  moon  is  lighting 
The  violet  evening  air. 

Beside  my  cottage  doorway, 

In  bud  and  bloom  are  seen 
The  fragrant  pink  wild  roses 

Upon  their  bushes  green. 

To-night  rny  heart  is  happy, 

To-night  the  empty  years 
Of  lone  and  utter  longing 

Have  lost  at  last  their  tears. 
41 


of  tft* 

My  own,  my  unforgotten, 
To-night  hath  let  me  know 

Her  heart  hath  reawakened 
Its  love  of  long  ago. 

Oh,  long  ago  I  lost  her! 

Oh,  bitter  was  the  throb! 
Oh,  hard  the  years  of  absence, 

The  heartbreak  and  the  sob! 

My  one,  my  own,  my  only  — 
Her  heart  grew  lonely,  too! 

And  now  I  wait  her  coming 
As  once  she  used  to  do. 

Oh,  will  she  come  to  brighten 
The  violet  evening  air, 

And  yield  to  my  caresses 
Her  waving  golden  hair? 

She  comes  —  her  shadow,  falling 
Across  my  cottage  door, 


of 


Is  moving  in  the  moonlight 
Beside  me  on  the  floor. 

I  dare  not  look  upon  her  — 
Oh,  shall  I  ever  know 

That  loveliness,  unfaded, 
I  loved  so  long  ago? 

Her  garments  rustle  near  me, 
A  sigh  her  bosom  stirs  — 

My  foolish  fears  forsaking, 
I  lift  my  eyes  to  hers. 

Her  eyes  have  all  their  glory, 
Her  lips  are  no  less  warm, 

The  years  have  not  diminished 
The  splendor  of  her  form. 

To  crown  the  years  of  yearning, 
To  cover  all  the  woe, 

To  see  her  is  sufficient, 
My  love  of  long  ago! 
43 


of  tfte  ISTortf) 

"  O  fair,  and  unforgotten ! 

0  lovely,  and  supreme! 

O  lips  that  lean  to  kiss  me  "  — 

1  wake  —  'tis  all  a  dream! 

O  break,  my  heart!  for  Heaven 
No  comfort  hath  to  dole, 

But  answers  with  its  silence 
The  silence  of  mv  soul. 


44 


of  tfjr  ISTotttj 


THE  BALLAD  OF  BROKEN  LINKS. 

I. 

Across  the  twilight  hills  she  came, 

Across  the  village  green; 
Light  hearted  lass  of  Burnlindale, 

As  lofty  as  a  queen. 

Under  the  birch  by  the  little  church 

A  laddie  stopped  the  lass. 
She  laughed  and  tossed  her  saucy  head, 

"  Now,  Bob,  you  let  me  pass !  " 

"  No,  May!    You  pay  the  toll,"  he  said, 

"  I'll  take  it  if  you  don't." 
She  laughed  and  tossed  her  saucy  head  — 

"  But,  Bob,  you  know  I  won't !  " 

She  struggled  in  her  lover's  arms, 

A  struggle  brief  and  weak. 
Her  eyes  were  laughing  into  his, 

He  kissed  her  girlish  cheek. 
45 


of  tije  Kottt) 

ii. 

Years  passed.     The  lass  of  Burnlindale 

Awake  in  the  gloaming  lay; 
She  had  folded  the  morrow's  bridal  veil 

Out  of  her  sight  away. 

Far-away,  silvery  choirs  of  frogs 
In  the  valley  piping  shrill  — 

And  memories  roll  —  she  hates  her  soul, 
But  tears  on  the  pillow  spill. 


They  fall  from  her  eyes  as  wine  will  flow 

Crushed  from  the  grapes  of  blue. 
There  is  one  may  never  know  her  woe  - 
God  grant  that  he  in  Heaven  may  know 
That  such  a  thing  was  true! 


She  hated  her  soul,  she  turned  on  her  bed, 
She  prayed  with  a  broken  sob; 

"  Forgive  me,  O  kind  God !  "  she  said, 
"  I  wish  that  it  were  Bob!  " 
46 


of 


in. 

The  twilight  sank  on  Burnlindale, 
"  Now,  hail,  old  comrade,  John  !  " 

"Hail   Bob,  old   friend!     Where  didst  thou 

spend 
The  years  while  thou  wert  gone?  " 

"  In  wars  and  over  waves,"  he  said, 

"  But  sick  of  foam  and  fight, 
By  something  I  am  homing  led,  — 

Why  ring  the  bells  to-night  ?  " 

Sublime  with  deep  intoning, 

The  church  bells  swung,  afar. 
The  echoes  died,  low  moaning. 

"  May's  wedding  bells  they  are." 

Oh,  long  when  John  had  turned  to  go, 

Bob  sat  beneath  the  trees. 
But  May,  who  never  knew  his  woe, 
God  grant  that  she  in  Heaven  may  know 

He  throbbed  with  memories! 
47 


of  tlje 

IV. 

"  The  gloaming  fell  on  Burnlindale, 
As  thou  wert  homing,  love  — 

Rememberest  how  I  kissed  thee,  now, 
That  happy  gloaming,  love? 

"  The  gloaming  now  on  Burnlindale 

Is  softly  stealing,  love, 
And  from  the  church  beside  the  birch 

The  bells  are  pealing,  love. 

"  Thy  bridal  bells  on  Burnlindale, 
Full-toned  and  tender,  love  — 

Ah,  woe!  I  thought  I  had  forgot 
Thy  smiles,  thy  splendor,  love! 

"  The  gloaming  falls  on  Burnlindale, 

If  hearts  are  broken,  love, 
I  know  not  —  oh,  I  only  know 

Heartache  unspoken,  love!" 


48 


of  tfje 


APRIL  AND   INDIAN  SUMMER. 

April  twilight,  humid  breezes, 
Brown  the  grass  the  snow  releases  — 
Roamed  a  lad  at  evening  lonely, 
Owning  love  for  Nana  only. 

June  and  wildwood.     "Yes,"  she  told  him; 
Heaved  her  bosom  close  to  hold  him; 
Squirrels  scampered  off  to  chatter 
To  their  mates  about  the  matter. 

Bridal  bells,  intoned  sublimely, 
Pealed  in  sweet  September  timely, 
When  the  bride  came  down  the  valley, 
Leaving  church  by  leafy  alley. 

Indian  Summer  wakes  in  wonder  — 
Blue  her  skies  but  white  thereunder 
Stands  the  stone  that  moans  in  vain  a 
Verse  beneath  the  name  of  Nana: 
49 


of  tftt  Ttfortf) 


"  Only  loved,  unlovely  never, 
Only  thee  I  love  forever  — 
Only  thee,  and  thou  art  only 
Ashes  in  a  graveyard  lonely." 


50 


of  ttje 


EILEEN  OF  INVERLIN. 

She  walked  the  woods  alone,  Eileen  of  Inverlin; 
Her  eyes  were  made  for  smiles,  but  held  the  tears 

therein. 

The  oriole  sang  low  along  the  leafy  lane 
When  there  I  met  Eileen,   the  lass  I  loved  in 

vain. 

"What  grief  is  thine,  Eileen?"  I  said.     A  sigh 

she  caught, 

And  lifted  up  her  eyes  of  blue  forget-me-not. 
"  My  lad  has  gone  to  war,  and  said,  '  Except  we 

win 
I  come  no  more  to  meet  Eileen  of  Inverlin!  ' 

'Twas  long  thereafter,  lo,  the  oriole  had  fled; 
Before  the  wailing  wind  the  leaves  were  drifting, 

dead; 

To  turn  her  love  to  me  I  did  the  deadly  sin 
A  letter  false  to  bring  Eileen  of  Inverlin. 
51 


of  tije 

"  Thy  love  is  false,"  I  said,  "  he  hath  forgotten 

thee." 

She  sank  upon  a  bank  and  read,  nor  looked  at  me. 
Above  the  cruel  lie  she  bowed  her  head  of  brown ; 
Like  billows  heaved  her  breast,  her  tears  were 

dripping  down. 

'Twas  there  I  broke  her  heart,  Eileen  of  Inverlin, 
But  noble,  when  I  tried  her  broken  heart  to  win, 
She  flashed,  "  If  he  is  false,  a  faithful  lover  I ! 
Nor  thou  nor  any  else  shall  claim  me  till  I  die !  " 

One  day  we  learned  her  lad  fell  down  in  battle, 

dead. 
When  other  days  and  years  were  gone,  "  Eileen," 

I  said, 
"  Ten  years  of  life  I'd  lose  one  smile  of  thine  to 

win  — 
Why  linger  longer  lone,  Eileen  of  Inverlin?" 

"  My  boy  is  dead,   I   know  —  if   false   I   never 

knew, 
But  this  I  know,  that  still  love  lives  and  love  is 

true. 

52 


?l>arj)  of  tije  ISTortf) 

His  eyes  were  hazel  bright,   my  bonny  Lyndon 

Glynn ! 
And  he  alone  may  love  Eileen  of  Inverlin." 

Nor  long  thereafter,  oh!  the  tender  leaves  were 


green 


At  sunset  in  the  woods  once  more  I  met  Eileen  — 
The  oriole  sang  low  —  and  she,  no  longer  lone, 
Held  arm  in  arm  at  last  her  true  love  and  her 
own. 

Oh,  gloriously  she  uplifts  her  lashes  long  — 
My  heart  is  full  of  hell  —  the  world  is  full  of 

song  — 
When  ring  the  bells  at  morn  yon   ivied  tower 

within, 
A  bonny  bride  will  be  Eileen  of  Inverlin ! 


53 


of  ttjt  ISTotttj 


THE   GAWKY. 

A  gawky  came  sauntering  over  the  hill. 

Quoth  Jennie,  a  scowl  on  her  brow, 
"  With  ma  in  the  meadow  and  pa  at  the  mill, 

How  can  I  have  company  now! 
Ho!  how? 

How  can  I  have  company  now?  " 

"Ho,    ho!"   said   the  booby,   "Was   ever   such 

luck? 

None  peek  at  me  now  if  I  stay!  " 
She    flashed    like   a   shaving   the   lightning    had 

struck : 
"  I  hate  you,  and  you  go  away! 

Oh,    Say! 
I  hate  you,  and  you  go  away!  " 

The  minx  at  her  meaning  he  took,  it  was  plain, 
"  Oh,  two  can  play  hating,  you  know!  " 
54 


?l>arj)  of  tt)*  Novtft 


Her  cheeks  were  soon  wet  as  a  rose  in  the  rain  — 
He  really  was  going  to  go! 

Boo!     Hoo! 
He  really  was  going  to  go! 

He  squinted  a  wee  little  squint  ere  he  went  — 
She  choked,  and  he  heard  her,  the  lout! 

He  didn't  suppose  that  he  knew  what  it  meant, 
But  thought  he  had  better  find  out. 

No  doubt, 
He  thought  he  had  better  find  out. 

He    caught    her.     She   wriggled    and    squealed, 

"  Oh,  you  quit! 

You  booby,  behave  yourself,  Jim! 
Your  kissing  I  do  not  want  any  of  it!  " 
But  the  hollyhocks  nodded  at  him 

(At  Jim), 
The  hollyhocks  nodded  at  him! 

He  loosed  her,  he  did  !     Oh,  the  lubber,  the  loon  ! 
But  stayed  all  the  gloaming  to  play, 
55 


of  ttje 

Till    over   the   mountain    Night   kicked   up   the 

moon, 
And  then  he  went  whistling  away! 

Oh,  say! 
And  then  he  went  whistling  away! 


of  tfje 


THE    SHEPHERD'S    DAUGHTER. 

Where  down  the  sunny  mountain  gushed  the 
gurgling  water 

The  lad  that  picked  the  apples  met  the  shep 
herd's  daughter. 

She  stood  beneath  the  birches,  on  the  bank  so 
mossy ; 

Her  eyes  were  blue  as  asters,  brown  her  locks 
and  glossy. 

Bare-footed,  hesitating,  skirts  a  little  lifting, 
She  watched  the  water  wimpling,  shadows  on  it 

shifting. 
Across  the  brook  the  laddie  called,   "  I'll  help 

you  over. 
The  stones  are  slippery."     Only  laughed  she  at 

her  lover. 

"  My  hand  you  want  to  hold  it,  hold  me  shall 
you  never! 

57 


of  tljt 

Go   tend,"   she  said,    "your  orchards!"      Love 

has  hope  forever, 

And  he  a  rosy  apple  gave  her,  making  bolder; 
But    she,    his    apple    tossing,    hit    him    on    the 

shoulder. 

"  Go  off,"  she  said,  "  and  leave  me!  "    Round  he 

turned  him,  going. 
Higher  she  pulled  her  skirts  to  wade  the  waters 

flowing. 
She  saw  no  more  the  lad,  nor  he  the  shepherd's 

daughter 
Till  once  again  they  met   beside  the  wimpling 

water. 

He  bent  beside  the  babbling  brook,  athirst,  and 
drinking, 

He  did  not  see  the  girl,  of  her  he  was  not  think 
ing. 

She  came  unseen  and  still;    'twas  hot,  her  cheeks 
were  ruddy, 

And  with   her  naked   foot  she  made  the  water 
muddy. 

58 


of  tfte  ISTottft 

She,  springing,  ran  away;  he  sprang  and  fol 
lowed  after. 

She  left  him  far  behind,  and  mocked  him  with 
her  laughter. 

The  silly  sheep  looked  on,  their  pasture  grasses 
chewing  ; 

They  blinked,  but  could  not  understand  what 
they  were  viewing. 

But   once   again    the    lad    beside    the   wimpling 

water 
Alone  and  sobbing  found  the  shepherd's  pretty 

daughter. 
He  pulled  her  hands  away  from  eyes  all  red  with 

crying. 
"  What  is  the  matter,  dear?  "  he  said,  her  cheeks 

a-drying. 

"  My  sheep  are  on  the  mountain  —  don't  know 
where  to  find  them. 

I've  hunted  till  my  feet  leave  bloody  tracks  be 
hind  them. 

59 


of  tfje 

They're    lost    and    gone,"    she    sobbed,    "  and 

father's  gone  a-roaming 
With  gun  upon  his  shoulder  —  won't  be  home 

till  gloaming." 

"  I'll  go  to  find  your  sheep,  then  cry  no  more, 

my  dearie," 
He  said,  and  sought  the  sheep;    he  walked  till 

he  was  weary. 
Across  the  hills  he  came  when  purple  night  was 

falling, 
But  every  lamb  came  home,   responding  to  his 

calling. 

The  lassie  heard  them  bleating,  came  and  saw 
them  folded; 

She  hugged  their  woolly  necks  and  every  wan 
derer  scolded. 

How  did  she  thank  the  lad  for  home  her  tru 
ants  bringing? 

She  let  him  kiss  her  cheek,  her  arms  around  him 
clinging. 


60 


of  tlje 


THE   WRAITH   OF   ROBIN. 

Eerie  eve,  eerie  eve, 

Ever  is  Hallowe'en; 
Lassie,  how  thy  heart  will  heave 

When  his  wraith  is  seen! 

Wouldst  thou  see  the  laddie,  lass, 

Fate  for  thee  requires  — 
Know  if  wedlock  come  to  pass 

As  thy  heart  desires? 

Lassie  go  when  midnight  spills, 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en, 
Terror  over  Burnlin  hills, 

And  his  wraith  is  seen. 

Where  the  naked  branches  groan, 

Haunted  by  the  moon, 
Thither,   lassie,    all   alone 

Seek  the  fearful  boon. 
61 


of  tftr 

Under  the  birches  runs  the  brook 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en; 
Bow  upon  the  banks  and  look, 

And  his  wraith  is  seen. 

Then  uprose  that  trembling  girl, 
Bowing  her  bonny  head, 

Speaking  with  her  heart  awhirl, 
Out  she  spake  and  said, 

"  In  the  waters  if  I  spy, 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en, 
Other  face  than  Rob's,  I  die 

When  the  wraith  is  seen !  " 

Went  the  lassie  where  the  brook 
Runs  toward  Burnlindale, 

Bowing  on  the  banks  to  look, 
Under  the  moonlight  pale  — 

Face  and   face  unto  her  own, 
Ever  at  Hallowe'en, 
62 


of  tfte 

Peering,  saw  she  Rob  alone 
When  the  wraith  was  seen! 

And  she  felt  a  presence  light, 

Light  as  the  whispering  breeze  — 

Then  the  vision  vanished  quite, 
Under  the  birchen  trees. 

Nor  than  hers  was  better  bliss 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en, 
For  her  Robin  and  for  this: 

That  his  wraith  was  seen. 

But  to  her  at  morning  came 

Sighing,  her  sister  sad; 
Tidings  heavy  past  all  name 

On  her  lips  she  had. 

"  Death  some  blithesome  bosom  kills, 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en  — 
Robin  died  on  Burnlin  hills, 

The  hour  when  wraiths  were  seen !  " 
63 


of  tfje 

Sobbed  the  lassie,  heart-broken  then, 

"Robin  could  not  die!  — 
Happy,  happy  have  we  been, 

And  his  bride  am  I! 

"  Bonny,  bonny  was  my  lad ! 

Ever  at  Hallowe'en  — 
Mine  was  all  the  love  he  had, 

And  I  his  wraith  have  seen !  " 

"  Thine  he  was,  and  thine  he  died, 

Lassie,  yester  eve."  — 
"  What  at  Halloweventide 

Message  did  he  leave?" 

'  I  will  pass  her  as  I  go, 
Ever  at  Hallowe'en, 
And  my  lassie  then  will  know 
She  my  wraith  has  seen.'  " 

"  Said  he  this,  and  '  This  weird  night 
Of  the  coming  year 
64 


of  tf)t 

Will  I  come  for  her  —  '"    "  O  bright 
Hope,"  she  cried,  "  and  dear!  "  — 

Eerie  eve,  eerie  eve, 

Ever  is  Hallowe'en, 
Lassie,  how  thy  heart  will  heave 

When  his  wraith  is  seen! 


of  ttjr 


BY  THE   MOON   OF   HALLOWE'EN. 

I. 
Above  the  mountain  moved  the  moon. 

"  Now  Jeanie,  answer  me !  " 
"  I  cannot  answer  thee  so  soon. 

Oh  wait  a  year !  "  said  she. 

"  Thy  father's  anger  thou  dost  dread  — 

Thou  wilt  forget  me,  Jean !  " 
"  I'll  answer  thee,  alive  or  dead, 

By  the  moon  of  Hallowe'en." 

But  out  and  spake  her  angry  sire 

When  she  had  turned  the  knob, 
"  I'd  see  thy  body  burn  in  fire 

Ere  thou  shouldst  marry  Rob !  " 

He  took  her  far  away  to  roam, 

When  back  the  tidings  spread 
Unto  the  mountains  of  her  home 

Of  Jeanie  Douglas  dead. 
66 


of  tfjtr 

ii. 

"  I  cannot  love  thee,  Agnes  Bell  — 

I  know  I  am  a  knave  — 
But  my  heart  is  hidden  deep  and  well 

In  Jeanie  Douglas'  grave!  " 

"  Take  back  thy  promise,  Rob,"  she  said, 
All  choked  with  anguish  hot. 

"  Should  Agnes  ever  wish  to  wed 
With  one  who  loves  her  not?" 


III. 

And  now  it  is  the  Hallowe'en, 
White  ride  the  clouds  on  high, 

And  gibbous  o'er  the  azure  sheen 
The  yellow  moon  goes  by. 

From  cloud  to  cloud  across  the  blue, 
From  dark  o'er  light  to  dark; 

The  somber  hills  with  shifting  hue 
The  eerie  moon  doth  mark. 
67 


?liavji  of  tfje 

By  fields  of  brown  the  shadows  sweep 

Along  the  naked  trees; 
And  somewhere  from  the  branches  deep 

Whistles  the  ghostly  breeze. 

In  Jean's  old  home  beyond  the  kirk 

The  youth  together  flock, 
In  jubilee  of  game  and  glee, 

Save  Rob  whom  memories  mock. 

Giggling  glee  —  bubbling  fair  — 

Till  at  the  middle  night 
An  eerie  wailing  fills  the  air 

And  stops  the  heart  with  fright. 

Unearthly  low  and  sad  it  calls, 

It  dies  to  silence  soon. 
Was  it  within  these  shadowy  walls 

Or  under  the  ghostly  moon? 

O  out  and  spake  then  Norna  Glynn, 
And  wild  and  pale  was  she, 
68 


of  tfjr 

"  A  ghost  is  seen  each  Hallowe'en, 
At  midnight  seen  is  he; 

"  Those  earthless   footsteps   lightly  tread 

Yon  hills  at  Hallowe'en 
The  fairest  ghost  of  all  the  dead 

That  mold  in  churchyards  green. 

"  Whoever  sees  that  ghost  arise, 

To  him  is  grief  and  groan; 
Whoever  spies  his  eldritch  eyes 

Falls  down  as  dead  as  stone!  " 

Pale  and  still  with  terror  all 

Stood  like  stones  to  hear. 
Out  and  spake,  that  spell  to  break, 

Agnes,  void  of  fear: 

"  The  tale  is  idle  —  out  I  go, 

Nor  fear  I  phantom  lore!  " 
Still  and  pale,  they  watched  her  go. 

Back  she  came  no  more. 
69 


of  tfje 

IV. 

By  terror  eerie  haunted, 

Rob  shook  with  utter  dread; 
His  highland  heart  was  daunted, 

Remembering  his  dead. 

The  girl  to  track  who  came  not  back, 

He  left  the  cottage  soon. 
The  clouds  above  were  mad  to  rack 

And  oversweep  the  moon. 

The  shadows  underneath  were  mad 

The  earth  to  overdance, 
To  flit  and  fall  and  darken  all, 

Departing  like  a  glance. 

The  dead  leaves  rustled  —  were  they  stirred 

By  mortal  foot,  or  blown 
By   the  breezes  —  what   was   that  he  heard  ? 

A  shudder  and  a  moan! 

Beneath  a  butternut  creaking  bare, 
Upon  a  mossy  mound 
70 


of  tfje 

Was  shape  or  shadow  —  Agnes  there 
Had  sunk  upon  the  ground! 

He  bent  above  her,  fain  to  speak, 

When  she  his  face  beheld. 
She  drove  him  from  her  with  a  shriek 

By  mortal  fear  impelled. 

"  Away !     Away !     O  touch  me  not ! 

Not  thou,  of  all  the  world !  " 
He  heard,  believing  that  her  thought 

In  chaos  wild  was  whirled. 

"  Not  I  of  all  the  world,  when  thou 
Didst  love  me  once  so  well!  " 

"Ay,"  she  replied,  "and  love  thee  now 
But  get  thee  hence!    Farewell!" 

"  And  hast  thou  seen  this  Hallowe'en 
Those  dread  unearthly  eyes?" 

"  A  lightsome  phantom  I  have  seen 
Where  yonder  pathway  lies. 
71 


IK?arj)  of  tfte 

"  Naught  utter  of  that  face !     The  form 

Was  radiant  to  see, 
But  since  I  heard  its  awful  word 

Come  never  near  to  me !  " 

But  nearer  still  he  stepped  to  her, 

The  shadow  shifted  grim, 
And  crouching  near,  in  terror  sheer, 

Witless  she  stared  at  him. 

Then  nearer  still  he  stepped  to  her, 

She  sprang  unto  her  feet; 
Away  she  ran  as  fleet  as  man 

Whom  devils  follow  fleet. 

V. 

The  day  has  dawned,  the  sun  beyond 

The  rugged  mountain  set 
For  more  than  thrice  an  hundred  times 

Since  Rob  and  Agnes  met. 

That  night  of  moon  and  terror, 
That  fearsome  Hallowe'en, 

72 


of  tije 

Has  made  her  shun  the  lad  as  one 
By  leprosy  unclean. 

By  ingleside  he  ponders 

What  may  the  mystery  mean. 
"  For  weal  or  woe,  I  swear  to  know," 

He  said,  "  what  she  hath  seen ! 

"  But  give  me  from  the  grave,  O  God, 

My  Jeanie  once  to  kiss, 
Or  from  the  grave  no  longer  save 

A  broken  life  like  this!  " 

'Twas  Agnes  wrote  to  him  the  note: 

"  The  night  is  Hallowe'en ; 
Go  (dost  thou  dare?)   thou  knowest  where 

The  wraith  I  saw  was  Jean." 

VI. 

The  haunted  Hallowe'en  is  back 

With  blinking  stars  o'erhead ; 
The  twisting  trees  are  bare  and  black, 

The  leaves  are  black  and  dead. 
73 


of  tfje 

Under  the  hill,  the  lonely  kirk 

And  Jeanie's  home  between, 
Soft  be  his  tread   who  with  the  dead 

Bides  tryst  at  Hallowe'en! 

'  Her  bones  are  buried  beyond  the  sea '  — 
Oh,  lies  and  false  alarms! 
To-night  will  Jeanie  Douglas  be 
Alive  within  my  arms!  " 

Out  spake  a  voice  —  he  shook  with  fright 

His  name  it  uttered  low. 
He  turned  to  see  a  phantom  bright, 

All  whiter  than  the  snow! 

Her  face  was  lifted  to  the  light 

Of  all  the  stars  to  show 
The  smiling  lips,  the  bonny  bright 

Blue  eyes  of  long  ago. 

One  cry  all  sharp  with  wild  delight  — 

But  never  the  ghost  of  Jean, 
And  never  on  another  night 

Her  lover  again  was  seen. 
74 


of  ttje 


NORNA   THORNTON. 

She   roamed   along  the  ragged  rocks 

Where  gushed  the  gurly  sea. 
"  To-morrow,"  tossing  back  her  locks 

She  laughed,   "  he  comes  to  me !  " 

The  sky  was  purple  overhead, 

The  green  old  ocean  sang, 
The  risen  moon  was  bloody  red 

And  loud  the  sea  birds'  clang. 

"  Thank  God   to-night  he   is  not   nigh !  " 

Cried  Norna  Thornton  soon, 
For  dark  and  darker  grew  the  sky 

And  bloodier  the  moon. 

The  wind  went  walking  round  about, 

The  eerie  wave  went  black, 
The  bloody  moon  was  blotted  out 

Beneath  the  scudding  rack. 

75 


of  tfje 

The  black  in  which  the  blind  man  walks 

Came  down  on  sea  and  land ; 
The  ocean  boomed  among  the  rocks 

And  thundered  on  the  strand. 

The  lightning  leaped  athwart  the  sky, 

The'  thunder  burst  sublime! 
Oh  night  of  nights  for  man  to  die 

At  his  appointed  time! 

A  voice  is  heard,  it  shouts  afar, 
Men  rush  with  mighty  strides. 

"A  ship  has  crossed  the  harbor  bar! 
Among  the  rocks  it  rides!  " 

A  flash,  and  then  the  thunder  crashed ; 

The  darkness  thick  was  furled; 
Then  out  the  leaping  lightning  flashed 

And  lit  the  eerie  world. 

When  out  the  leaping  lightning  flashed, 
"  Look!  "  Norna  Thornton  cried. 

"  Look  yonder!     Look!    to  death  is  dashed 
A  vessel  on  the  tide!  " 
76 


of  ttje 

"  Now  comes  the  crack  of  doom!  "  they  cry, 

"  And  death  is  on  her  track!  " 
On  Hampton  haven  heaving  high, 

The  breakers,  leaping  black, 

Are  leaping  black  and  breaking  white 

Upon  the  harbor  rocks, 
When  inky  blank  again  the  night 

The  keenest  vision  blocks. 

The  plunge  and  thunder  of  the  deep 
The  shrillest  shriek  would  drown. 

God  only  —  who  is  gone  —  could  keep 
That  diapason  down. 

But  hark!    a  strident  crash  is  heard! 

The  lightning  leaps  a-lee! 
All  man  could  see,  all  men  averred, 

Was  flotsam  on  the  sea! 

The  lightning  leaped  along  the  sky, 

Men  read  beneath  its  flame, 
From  the  vessel's  broken  beak  tossed  high, 

And  Norna  was  the  name! 

77 


71MV4J  of  tftr 

Insanely  Norna  to  the  sea 

Cried  when  that  name  she  knew, 

"  Give  Skipper  Jamie  back  to  me, 
Or  drown  this  body  too!  " 

Insanely  Norna  to  the  sea 

Ran  swift,  but  as  she  ran 
The  surf  washed  homeward  heavily 

The  body  of  a  man. 

"Stop!    for  the  love  of  God!    O  girl, 
Thy  love  lies  on  the  strand!  " 

She  turned,  with  head  and  heart  a-whirl, 
She  knelt  and  took  his  hand. 

"  Oh  heavy,  heavy  on  my  knee, 
And  cold  my  darling's  head! 

And  cold  the  arms  that  folded  me 
So  fondly  —  he  is  dead !  " 

She  plunged  into  the  plunging  sea 

Ere  any  man  could  save. 
Grim  Death  was  laughing  loud   for  glee 

Below  the  wicked  wave. 

78 


of  tft* 

For,  sighing  on  the  sodden  sand, 
The  skipper  came  to  life. 

He  glanced  along  the  gloomy  strand, 
He  called  his  promised  wife. 

Oh,  golden  love  shall  kill  his  care, 
And  golden  hope  is  sweet! 

But  golden  was  that  corpse's  hair 
The  surf  flung  at  his  feet. 


79 


of  tfte  ISTottf) 


EVIL  IVAN'S  BRIDE. 

Eerily  the  olden  moon 

Within  the  crescent  rode 
The  ocean  floor,  a  skull  all  gore, 

In  a  golden  bowl  bestowed. 

And  black  against  the  somber  sea 

Uprose  a  castle  bad, 
Nor  any  turf  but  leaping  surf 

And  solid  rock  it  had. 

"  Go  down  unto  the  somber  sea," 

Said  Ivan,  evil-eyed, 
"  And  light  the  stony  tower  for  me 

Where  I  shall  bring  my  bride!  " 

I  shook  with  fear  such  words  to  hear; 

A  darksome  man  was  he 
To  nest  a  bride  at  such  a  tide, 

By  such  a  sounding  sea! 
80 


of  tfje 

Thundering  the  beaches  moan, 

But  from  that  bridal  night 
Was  evil  Ivan  never  known 

To  any  mortal  sight. 

That  castle  black  on  a  boulder's  back, 

Men  say  of  it  in  fear, 
Shuddering  to  their  icicle  souls, 

"  'Tis  haunted  many  a  year ! 

"  It  hath  a  ghost  that  grins  in  glee 

When  scuds  the  gibbous  moon ; 
When  devils  drive  the  winds  at  sea 

It  laugheth  like  a  loon!  " 

An  owl  will  hoot  at  the  haunted  moon 

From  ivied  ruins  lone, 
But  fearsome  most  is  a  giggling  ghost 

Where  sounding  oceans  moan. 

'Tis  night;    in   the  gloom   the  combers  spume, 
And  the  moon  at  the  window  peeks; 

In  the  hollow  hall  as  dim  as  doom 
A  mortal  footstep  creaks. 

81 


of  tfjt 

Unsought  for  twenty  years  that  room 

'Tis  evil  Ivan  seeks; 
His  hair,  once  like  a  hearse's  plume, 

Is  grizzled  now  in  streaks. 

He  heard  a  sound,  he  looked  around, 

He  thought  it  was  a  moan. 
Was  it  a  moan,  that  mournful  sound, 

Or  an  echo  of  his  groan? 

He  rolled  his  eyes,  aghast,  agape 

At  the  dim  moon-litten  room; 
He  thought  he  saw  a  moving  shape 

That  should  have  lain  in  tomb. 

As  black  as  crape  that  moving  shape, 

'Twas  blacker  than  the  gloom 
In   the  corners.     "Oh!"  he  groaned,  agape, 

Remembering  the  tomb! 

He  glanced  again  a  glance  in  vain, 

If  ghost,  the  ghost  was  gone; 
The  moon  looked  down  the  skeleton  pane 

At  Ivan,  shaking,  lone. 
82 


of 


Out  spake  a  voice  :   "  O  blessed  glee  !  " 

That  voice  unearthly  said; 
"  I  pity,  pity,  pity  thee! 

'Tis  blithesome  to  be  dead  !  " 

He  shook  at  words  so  sudden  said, 

For  an  idiot  may  divine 
The  gibbering  of  the  bony  dead 

Is  winter  to  the  spine. 

As  if  a  frozen  corpse's  hand 
Had  slapped  his  naked  heart, 

When  white  he  saw  a  phantom  stand 
He  shook  with  a  fearful  start. 

For  drifting  o'er  the  naked  floor 

It  stood  within  the  light; 
Nor  black  as  crape  that  phantom  shape, 

But  like  a  lily  white. 

"  O  God  !  "  he  muttered,  half  in  swoon, 

:<  The  face  is  hers,  the  eyes 
Are  hers  that  glitter  to  the  moon, 

As  fair  as  Paradise! 

83 


of  tfje 

"  They  are  no  lips  of  mortal  warm 

Those  fearful  words  that  said. 
The  bones  that  shaped  that  beauteous  form 

Have  twenty  years  been  dead !  " 

Then  through  a  door  as  dark  as  doom 

Floats  and  disappears 
That  phantom  to  a  hollow  room 

Whose  echo  Ivan  hears  — 

"  Oh  blithesome  are  the  dead !  "  thought  he, 

"  That  apparition  said ! 
No  heart  like  hers  could  ever  be 

So  happy  to  be  dead !  " 

A  haggard  look  askance  he  took, 

The  haunted  halls  he  fled. 
And  did   he  hear  a  moaning  near, 

And  was  it  from  the  dead? 

Nor  any  tone  of  bitter  moan 
Self-murdered  heard  he  more  — 

A  corpse  is  he  the  somber  sea 
For  ever  tumbles  o'er. 
84 


of  tyt 

But  a  bitter  tone  of  moaning  lone, 

Nor  was  it  from  the  dead, 
Like  waves  that  rave  in  a  cave  of  stone, 

Rose  soon  as  Ivan  fled. 

In  the  mellow  yellow  of  the  moon 

Fantastic  on  the  floor, 
As  black  as  crape  a  moving  shape 

Came  tottering  once  more. 

"  So  dear,  so  cruel,  who  like  thee!  " 

That  sable  woman  cried, 
And  peered  upon  the  somber  sea 

As  Ivan  sank  and  died. 

Then  to  her  wailing  agony 

The  only  answer  said, 
"  I  pity,  pity,  pity  thee! 

'Tis  blithesome  to  be  dead!  " 

Nor  black  as  crape  the  phantom  shape, 

But  like  the  lily  white, 
Which  drifted  o'er  the  naked  floor 

And  laughed  to  see  the  light. 
85 


'Twas  evil  Ivan's  daughter,  born 

As  crazy  as  a  loon. 
With  vacant  laughter,  eve  to  morn, 

She  gibbers  at  the  moon. 

"  Thy  father  dies  in  yonder  sea!  " 

The  sable  woman  cried; 
The  answer  came,  "  I  pity  thee! 

'Tis  blessed  to  have  died!  " 

"  Daughter  darling,  yes  I  know,  " 

The  sable  woman  said, 
"  Marked  unborn  by  a  mother's  woe, 

'Tis  blessed  to  be  dead ! 

"  Daughter  darling,  follow  me ! 

Deserted  once  when  wed, 
The  bed  is  deep  where  I  shall  sleep  — 

Ivan's  bridal  bed !  " 

To  the  castle  parapet  went  she  — 

It  overhangs  the  tide  — 
And,  turning  to  the  somber  sea, 

She  leaped,  and  sank  and  died. 
86 


?i?arj)  of  tfje 

"  Aha,  ha,  ha!     A  heavy  host!  " 
The  crazy  daughter  said. 

"  Oh,  I  am  but  a  gleesome  ghost ! 
'Tis  blithesome  to  be  dead !  " 


of  tfjr 


VENGEANCE   IS   MINE. 

I. 

From  the  deeps  will  I  utter  it  once,  from  the 
heart  of  the  damned  will  it  leap 

Like  the  lavas  that  leap  to  the  skies  when  the 
mightiest  mountains  can  keep 

In  suppression  their  furies  no  more.  Of  the  in 
finite  mercies  that  shine 

Over  all,  it  is  all  that  I  claim  —  'tis  a  memory 
mad,  and  'tis  mine! 


From  the  blackness  of  darkness  this  once  of  the 

days  that  are  dead  will  I  sing; 
Of  the  eyes  that  were  fair  as  the  stars,  and  the 

tresses  like  twilight  in  spring; 
Of  the  smiles  that  were  sweet  and  the  voice  that 

was  low  as  the  oriole's  call, 
And  of  maddening  passion  for  her,  for  her  beauty 

was  mighty  in  all. 

88 


of  tfte 

Through  unspeakable  darkness  they  come  in  re 
membrance,  those  visions  of  yore, 

And  of  her  —  but  for  ever  and  ever  her  name 
may  I  utter  no  more. 

We  were  children  together,  the  day  of  her  birth 

was  the  day  of  my  own, 
We  were  friendly  in  youth,  and  I  loved  her  — 

how  madly,  God  only  hath  known! 
But  a  happier  lover  than  I  in  her  fancy  ascended 

his  throne 
Till  a  year  had  scarce  withered  away,  when  he 

left  her  to  sorrow  alone. 
He  had  come,  he  had  taken  her  heart,  he  had 

taken  my  hope  and  was  gone. 

But  I  waited,  for  mighty  is  love,  and  my  spirit 

lay  prone  at  her  feet. 
She  forgot  that  I  loved  her,  I  know,  in  forget- 

fulness  cold  and  complete, 
But  I  waited,  for  mighty  is  love,  and  if  ever  her 

tears  should  be  dry 
89 


?IMV.P  of  tfje 

And,   forgetting  the  false,  she  could  smile,   she 

should  find  that  the  faithful  was  nigh. 
And  I  waited,   though  weary  the  years  —  since 

I  laughed  as  a  rollicking  child 
I  had  wanted  her  only.    At  last  she  remembered 

I  loved  her,  and  smiled. 
I  was  happy!     The  hills  of  my  home  and  the 

heart  in  my  bosom  grew  light 
As  the  summer  with  haloes  of  hope  from  the 

moments  I  spent  in  her  sight. 


II. 

But  the  summer  soon  faded  away,  and  the  days 

of  our  happiness  fled. 
When    the    eeriest    night    of    the    autumn    was 

shimmering  high  overhead, 
An   insidious  whisper  I  heard;    like  a  snake  in 

my  bosom  it  fed. 
'Twas  a  word  of  the  deepest  despair  that  can 

eat  its  way  into  the  heart; 
'Twas  a  hint  —  was  it  truth,  or  a  lie?     When 

suspicions  and  jealousies  start 
90 


of  tfje 

They  will  leap  in  the  halls  of  the  soul  like  the 

dancing  of  devils  insane 
In  the  breathless,  low  hollows  of  Hell  till  the 

soul  is  all  passion  and  pain. 
Was  it  true  that  the  false  had  returned?     It 

was  maddening  into  my  brain 
That  forgiveness  was   his  for  the  asking,   from 

her  I  had  worshipped  in  vain. 
It  was  lightly  she  cared  for  my  love;    was  her 

passion  so  mighty  for  him 
She  could  steal  to  his  arms  in  the  hours  of  a 

night  so  infernal  and  dim? 
It  was  maddening  into  my  brain!     In  a  frenzy 

each  moment  more  grim 
Till  it  swept  from  my  bosom  all  love,   I  was 

striding  from  room  unto  room, 
Love  returning  to  battle  with  wrath,  which  arose 

like  a  demon  to  doom 
Every  tenderer  thought   of  the  heart,   till,   the 

terrible  struggle  to  stay, 
I    girded    a   sword   to   my   body   and   swiftly    I 

bounded  away. 


91 


of  tfje  UCortfj 

in. 

It  was  late  in  the  year,  and  the  grass  of  Novem 
ber  lay  brown  on  the  ground; 
It  was  night,  and  the  moon  in  the  azure  was 

journeying  yellow  and-  round. 
She  was  swift  as  the  hours  of  our  joy  and,  like 

ghosts  in  the  wailing  night-breath, 
The  great  folds  of  the  clouds  were  swept  over 

her,  white  as  the  Angel  of  Death. 
On  the  hills,  on  the  fields  of  my  home,  on  the 

.    woods  that  were  leafless  and  dim, 
The  black  shadows  were  chasing  the  moonlight 

that  died  in  the  darknesses  grim, 
Like   the   flame   of   my   passion   for   her   in   the 

doom  of  my  anger  for  him. 
But  I  sped  through  the  night    (I  was  swift  as 

the  shifting,  wild  shades  on  my  path) 
In  the  might  of  a  passionate  love,  in  the  speed 

of  a  terrible  wrath. 
When   I    came   to   her   garden   at   last,   by   the 

scudding  of  clouds  in  the  sky, 
Like  a  blot  of  black  ink  upon  paper,  a  darkness 

was  dropped  from  on  high. 
52 


of  tfte 

But  I  heard  the  low  voice  of  my  love,  and  "  O 

love!  "  were  the  words  of  the  voice. 
Was  she  musing  of  me,  and  alone,  or   indeed 

was  the  traitor  her  choice? 
I  waited  in  anguish  and  hope  till  the  moon  out 

of  shadow  should  roll; 
It  shone  —  the  last  hope  of  my  being  fell  rigid 

and  dead  in  my  soul. 

When   the  moon,   in  the  eldritch  cloud-dances, 

whirled  giddily  into  the  blue, 
She  was  wickedly  quick  to  reveal,  with  a  gleam 

of  her  ghastliest  hue, 
In  the  arms  of  her  lover,  my  love!     Then   I 

clutched  at  the  hilt  of  my  sword, 
And    I    flashed    it    out,    glittering   cold    to   the 

moonbeams  above  us  that  poured. 
O   revenge!     For  revenge  I  was  raging!     My 

eyes  from  their  sockets  did  start, 
While    the   passionate    blood    of   my    body    ran 

blacker  than   Hell  to  my  heart. 
To  the  hilt  in  his  heart  then  I  plunged  the  white 

steel,  and  he  died  with  a  groan, 
93 


of  tfje  Kotti) 

As   my   love    in    her    agony    shrieked,    with    all 

Hades  and  death  in  her  tone. 
On  his  body  she  fell  with  the  cry  of  a  love  that 

was  mighty  as  Fate, 
But  once  turning  to  hurl  through  my  soul  one 

horrible  look  of  her  hate. 
While  the  clutches  of  agony  cruel  were  tearing 

her  heart  to  its  death, 
She  had  laid  her  cold  head  on  his  bosom,  and 

yielded  forever  her  breath. 

From  the  sight  of  her  hate  and  the  sight  of  her 
love  so  majestic  I  fled, 

And  her  hatred  for  me  and  her  passion  for  him 
was  the  curse  on  my  head. 

Did  I  care,  did  I  grieve,  that  I  slew  him?     Ha! 
ha!     I   had   stricken  him  dead! 

He  had  loved  her  and   taken  her  love!     I   re 
joiced  in  the  death  I  had  done! 

He  would  clasp  her  no  more  to  his  bosom!    Ha! 
ha!     He  was  dead!     She  was  won 

From  caresses  forever  of  his!    And  no  matter  if 
lost  unto  me, 

94 


?lnTvj>  of  tfj* 

It  was  he  that  should  see  her  no  more,  —  the 

glass  eyes  of  the  dead  cannot  see! 
No  remorses  had  murder  for  me,  nor  the  sin  of 

my  soul  had  I  fled, 
But  the  pang  of  her  passion  for  him,  and  the 

hatred  she  hurled  on  my  head. 
It  was  more  than  victorious  vengeance,  in  vain 

was  the  deed  I  had  done, 
I  was  damned  by  a  doom  that  was  mightier  far 

than  the  joy  I  had  won. 
Yea,  I  knew  that  forever  to  him  she  was  lost, 

but,  ah  Hell!    I  had  known 
That  she  died  for  the  love  that  she  bore  him; 

he  claimed  her  last  kiss  as  his  own. 
I  had  lived  but  to  love  her,  and  now  the  last 

glance  of  her  eyes  I  should  see, 
Was    the   look    of   her   horrible   hate    that   she 

hurled  o'er  his  body  at  me! 

I  may  speed  with  all  swiftnesses  merged  into  one 

irresistible  speed ; 
His   blackening   blood    I    may    shake    from    my 

sword  and  may  laugh  at  the  deed. 
95 


»f  tfje 

I  may  flee  from  the  deed,  but  no  more  can  I 

flee  from  that  passionate  glance 
Of  her  hatred!     No  matter!     Aha!     Have  ye 

seen,  where  the  darknesses  dance 
One  after  another  across  the  mad  moon  in  the 

eventide's  breath, 
From  the  ground   the  long  sword   pointing  up 

to  the  moon  like  the  finger  of  Death? 
Did  ye  see,  O  ye  demons,  the   glittering  blade 

I  had  borne  at  my  side? 
Did  ye  laugh  with  your  hollow  Ha,  Ha,  when 

I  hurled  myself  on  it  and  died? 


IV. 

In  the  blackness  of  darkness  forever,  a  soul  that 

is  blasted,  I  roam 
Where  the  midnights  are  blacker  than  thunder, 

and  death,  even  death,  has  no  home 
For  the  soul   disembodied   and   damned   by   the 

love  and  the  anger  that  swell 
In  itself,  when  no  will  but  its  nature  has  made 

its  eternity's  hell. 

96 


oC  tfte  ISTovtf) 

But  the  curse  is  forever  upon  it,  and  lone,  in 

the  blackness  of  night, 
In  the  soul  of  the  dead,  the  wild  love  is  aflame 

with  its  maddening  might, 
Till  I  yearn  in  unspeakable  anguish  to  see  the 

one  woman  I  love, 
And    I    rise    from    the    valleys    of    death    and 

athwart  the  lone  midnight  I  move. 
By  the  infinite  caverns  of  horror,  by  plains  that 

no  mortal  can  tread ; 
By  the  mountains  that  loom  to  the  darkness,  all 

black  with  the  curse  of  the  dead ; 
By  the  ways  that  the  dead  cannot  utter,  I  come! 

I  am  come  to  her  grave! 
I  shall  look  through  the  earth  to  her  body  to 

see  the  one  darling  I  crave. 
She  is  cold,  she  is  pallid  and  still,  she  is  dead, 

but  what  matter?    'Tis  she! 
She  is  white  in  her  beautiful  silence,  and  I,  yet 

again  I  shall  see 
The  one  love  of  my  soul!     So  I  bend  to  her 

grave  that  is  grassy  and  green, 


97 


7iMrj)  Of  tfje  ISfOtt!) 

And  I  look  —  but,  O  God!     I  am  dumb  with 

the  doom  of  what  there  I  have  seen. 
?Twas  the  ultimate  horror  of  Hell  that  I  saw 

in  her  pallor  and  grace, 
For  the  look  of  her  hatred  for  me  was  frozen  in 

death  on  her  face! 
O  my  darling,  for  ever  in  vain  for  thy  love  in 

all  worlds  must  I  wait! 

0  not  ever  in  life  wouldst  thou  love  me,  and 

even  in  death  wilt  thou  hate! 

Then    I    staggered   away,   when   a  rage,   like  a 

whirlwind  arose  in  my  soul, 
And  I  swore  by  the  fates  and  the  gods,  and  the 

stars  that  eternally  roll, 
(For  I  rushed  to  the  grave  of  my  rival,  where, 

down  the  dim  asphodel  deeps, 

1  beheld  him  serene  in  the  silence  where,  pallid, 

for  ever  he  sleeps). 
"  In  her  life  thou   hast  taken  her  love,   in  her 

death  thou  hast  left  me  her  hate; 
When  I  lived,  for  the  curse  that  thou  gavest,  I 

hurled  through  eternity's  gate, 
98 


of  tfj* 

From   its   body   asunder,    thy   soul,   with   a   stab 

in  the  horrible  night. 
Oh!    my  bones  whistle  bare  in  the  breezes,   thy 

mortal  no  more  can  I  blight, 
But  immortal  thou  livest,  they  say,  in  the  Aidenn 

of  love  that  is  fair  — 
Ay,  remember  my  spirit  yet  lives,  tho'  in  Angers 

of  Hell  and  Despair! 
As  thy  body  I  slew  in  revenge,  by  the  Fates  and 

the  furies  I  swear; 
By  the  demons   and   angels  of  wrath!    by  the 

Prince  of  the  Powers  of  Air! 
I  have  sworn  that  my  spirit  shall  rise,  and  shall 

damn  to  the  nethermost  gloom, 
In  its  vengeance,   from   Heaven  itself  thy  soul 

that  hath  fashioned  my  doom !  " 

Away  on  the  wings  of  my  wrath  from  the  inky 

black  mountains  of  death! 
From  the  angers  of  Hell  I  have  taken  all  angers 

that  madden  its  breath. 
From  the  graves  of  the  earth  and  the  Blackness 

of  Darkness  Forever,  I  rise 
99 


On   the  wings  of  my  passion   for  her  and  my 

hatred  of  him  to  the  skies. 
Far  away  from  the  hills  and  the  seas  and  the 

chambers  of  thunder  I  go, 
Till  the  moon  and  the  sun  and  the  planets  have 

died  in  the  distance  below, 
And   from  star  unto  star  and   beyond   the  last 

star  of  the  universe,  lo, 

Till  I  see,   in  the  infinite  distance,  the  Jasper- 
walled  Highlands  that  glow 
In   their   splendor    for   ever   and    ever,   sublime 

with  the  pearl  at  the  gate  — 
Till  I  sweep  through  those  portals  of  pearl,  in 

my  fury  of  vengeance  and  hate ! 
Not    a   saint   hath    forbidden    my   entrance,    no 

seraph  hath  questioned  my  ways, 
Not  a  sign  from  the  hosts  of  the  saved,  not  a 

frown  from  the  Ancient  of  Days. 
As  I  cry  in  my  rage  for  the  soul  that  is  Nemesis, 

curse,  and  despair, 
The  Archangel  himself  for  an  answer  is  tenderly 

whispering,  "  There!  " 


100 


of 


And  I  look  where  his  pinions  direct  me  —  aha! 

I  have  seen  him  at  last! 
I  have  seen  —  but,  O  God  !   with  what  anguish 

the  deadliest  sickness  did  blast 
My  soul  as  I  saw  him,  for  there  —  it  was  he  in 

his  haven  of  rest  — 
But  the  spirit  of  her  I  had  loved  was  reclining 

in  bliss  on  his  breast  ! 

Frozen  in  pain  was  my  vengeance,   dumb   was 

my  anger  and  dead. 
I  was  utterly  lone,  and  a  horror  of  infinite  bleak 

ness  sank  dread 
On  my  sinking  and  sickening  soul,  till  backward 

I  tottered  and  fell 
Staggering,  reeling,  down  from  the  pearly  gates 

into  Hell. 


101 


of  tfje 


THE    EVENSTAR. 

Oh  mine  was  a  spark 
Of  life,  flame  red, 

Till  utterly  from  the  day, 
Into  the  dark, 
Into  the  dead, 

It  shaded  sheer  away. 

And  a  shadow  soul 
On  the  gloom  to  float 

Of  the  outer  wild  unknown 
From  the  dust  did  roll, 
And  gave  one  note 

In  parting  —  'twas  a  moan. 

One  hollow  moan 

To   the   awful   sky  — 

The  spaces  I  must  roam, 
For  the  skies  intone 
That  hollow  cry 

To  be  my  welcome  home. 
102 


And  why  so  far, 
And  why  so  light, 

And  why  so  wildly  free, 
Without  a  star, 
Without  the  might 

Of  wing  to  carry  me? 


And  why  the  while 
So  calm  remain, 

So  passionless  as  this; 
Without  a  smile, 
Without  a  pain, 

In  all  the  lone  abyss? 


Nor  is  there  one 
To  welcome  me 

But  a  boundless,  lone  abyss? 
And  have  I  done 
Eternally 

With  love  and  pain  and  bliss? 
103 


of  tfjr 

Oh !   what,  so  far, 
Is  this  I  see, 

All  beautiful  and  bright? 
One  evenstar 
To  welcome  me 

In  all  the  boundless  night! 


Oh  nearer  yet, 

And  less,  less  far  — 

My  disembodied  soul 
Can  ne'er  forget 
That   evenstar, 

Whatever  aeons  roll! 


Emerald  green 
And  azure  blue 

And  alabaster  white, 
And  sunset  sheen 
Of  pink  that  grew 

On  the  purple  peaks  at  night 
104 


of 


A  paradise 

Of  beauty  bright 

Art  thou,  O  Evenstar, 
To  bless  these  eyes 
The  first  great  night 

When  I  must  wander  far! 


But  who  art  thou, 
O  lovely  one 

In  thy  star  so  near  to  me, 
More  beauteous  now 
Than  moonrise  on 
A  sleeping,  silver  sea? 


Thy  tresses  long, 
Thy  smile  so  sweet, 

Like  the  smile  I  used   to  know! 
The  flowers  that  throng 
Thy  snowy  feet 

Are  whiter  than  the  snow. 
105 


of  tfj* 

Thy  robe  is  white 
As  righteousness, 

Why  dost  thou  come  to  me 
Who  am  this  night 
All  passionless, 

From  love  by  death  made  free? 


So  silken  soft 

Thy  lily-white  breast! 

So  lilac  sweet  thy  kiss! 
O  why  so  oft 
Thy  tresses  rest 

Upon  a  breast  like  this? 


And  around  me  arms 

All  airy  light 

Are  white  as  a  lily  bloom  — 
O  love,  the  charms 

I   hold  to-night 

I  thought  were  under  the  tomb! 
106 


of  ttje 

"  O  hast  forgot 

Thy  first  love  now, 

Thine  only  and  thy  last? 
Rememberest  not 
One  holy  vow 

From  out  the  holy  past? 


Thine  eyes,  I  see, 
Are  deep  and  blue, 

Like  hers — my  love  who  died! 
"And  I  am  she, 
And  thou  wert  true, 

And,  O  my  Sanctified! 


"I  am  thine  for  this; 
Nor  bliss   could  be 

Where  thou  dost  not  abide" 
Nor  passionless 
I  come  to  thee, 

But  wild  with  love,  my  bride! 
107 


of  tfje 

"Ay,  bride  of  thine 
For  evermore 

Amid  immortal  mirth, 
O  love  divine, 
O  loved  of  yore, 

Mid  the  purple  peaks  of  earth." 


108 


of  tfte 


IN    SHADOWLAND. 

"O  Angel,  stay!     I  fear  this  land 
Of  amaranth  and  asphodel !  " 
"  Nay,  fear  not,  Shadow,  all  is  well, 

For  see,  I  hold  thy  hand." 

"  These  vistas  dim  of  cypresses 
I  fear,  for  I  a  sinner  stand." 
"  I  know  —  I  feel  it  on  thy  hand, 

Heart's  blood  of  hers  it  is." 

"  O  blame  me  not,  but  pity  me ! 
I  loved  a  wife,  but  lovers  part  —  " 
"  I  know  it  —  thou  didst  break  her  heart 

And  thrust  her  forth  from  thee." 

"  Have  mercy,  thou  of  Shadowland, 

And  damn  me  not  with  doom  more  drear !  " 

"  Nay,  sins  are  all  forgiven  here, 
And  see,  I  hold  thy  hand." 
109 


?i>arj)  of  ttje 

"  But  see,  where  looms  yon  lonesome  tree 
Afar,  a  woman's  form  doth  stand." 
"  Ay,  thou  dost  long  to  hold  her  hand 

For  love's  eternity." 

"  In  Shadowland,  O  let  her  be 

My  own  —  but  see!    she  drifts  away!" 
"  Ay,  drifts  forever  and  for  aye 

Her  mournful  soul  from  thee!  " 

"  Her  face  is  turned  away  from  me! 

She  will  not  turn  —  my  heart   is  sore!" 
"  Yea,  once  —  but  not  for  evermore  — 

Her  eyes  will  turn  to  thee." 

"  Her  form  is  beauteous  —  is  she  fair 
As  evening  stars  in  twilight  skies?" 
"  Ay,  there  is  splendor  in  her  eyes 

And  glory  in  her  hair." 

"  My  wife!  "  (for  on  the  endless  track 

She  turns),  "Oh!    bring  her  back  to  me!" 
"  I  did  not  thrust  her  out  from  thee, 

I  cannot  bring  her  back!  " 
110 


of  tfje 


THE   SHADOW   BROTHER. 

'Twas  somewhere  down  the  sunless  land, 

Along  the  windless  ways 
Among  the  spectral  trees  they  met 

Each  other's  eerie  gaze. 

"  Shadow  brother,  who  art  thou, 
With   earthless   eyes   aglow?" 

"  I  was  a  poet  in  the  earth 
A  thousand  years  ago." 

"  And  did  they  listen  to  thy  song?  " 
"  To  none  my  song  was  dear ; 

My  heart  grew  heavy  till  it  dragged 
My  tired  spirit  here." 

"  What  dust  upon  thy  shadowy  shoe 

Is  scattered  thin  and  white?" 
"  My  critics'  crumbled  monuments 

I  trod  on  in  the  night." 
Ill 


of  tfje 

"  And  where  are  now  thy  songs,  the  songs 

Left  silent  in  their  day?" 
"  The  poets  sing  them  at  their  tasks, 

The  children  at  their  play." 


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